


smoke and mirrors

by tiniestawoo



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, I kinda just ignored Braeden, M/M, Multi, Multiamory May 2020, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Scent Kink, Threesome, Wolfed-Out Sex, marking kink, mostly follows the canon, she's a great character but didn't work for this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:53:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24066160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiniestawoo/pseuds/tiniestawoo
Summary: He can’t tell what they are. Are they a couple? Are they together or just friends. What he saw the day he was at Argent’s apartment showed a level of trust between the two – if Argent was willing to shower while Derek was in his apartment. And the bruises on Argent’s wrists either implied that they were lying and there was some kind of fight, or maybe it was just kinky sex misunderstood by prying neighbors. Neither of them gave much away, and it made it hard for Jordan – even with a the honed perception of a trained officer of the law – to figure out what was going on.
Relationships: Chris Argent/Derek Hale, Chris Argent/Derek Hale/Jordan Parrish (endgame)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 79





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Multiamory May 2020, Day 7
> 
> Went outside my polypack series to bring you some much needed Deputy Dargent.
> 
> Enjoy!

Jordan hesitated for a moment before he knocked on the door to the apartment, knowing full well who lived inside. They’d gotten a callout for what sounded like a fight or a domestic disturbance, and it was somewhat surprising to see the address listed as belonging to Chris Argent. The Sheriff clearly trusted this man, and the quiet young man he’d been with when they were arrested. Argent had seemed like a level headed and reasonable man, even if he did seem to have acquired weaponry that should really not be available to civilians. 

Steeling himself, he was about to knock on the door when it suddenly opened, and he was faced with the dark-haired man from earlier. They were about the same height, but the other man – Hale? – was broader than Jordan was, and something about him seemed dangerous. He intimidated Jordan in a way few people did. Currently, he felt trapped beneath inquisitive eyes until Hale finally asked, “Is there a problem, deputy?” 

Jordan cleared his throat, “We got a call for a fight at this address. Is Mr. Argent home?” 

A small, amused smile cracked across Hale’s face, and he reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “He’s in the shower.” Hale stepped back, motioning Jordan into the apartment. “There was a fight but nothing for you to worry about, deputy…Parrish, was it?” 

Jordan stepped inside and nodded, “Jordan Parrish.” He smiled at the other man, glancing around the apartment. He could faintly smell some kind of accelerant but if there had been a fight, it hadn’t happened in any of the areas that he could see. The living room was immaculate – it almost seemed like it was hardly used. The kitchen was tidy, and the doors to each of the rooms down the hallway were closed. Jordan resigned himself to the fact that this was another pointless callout and settled in to wait to speak with Mr. Argent.

“Are you from the area?” He asked Hale. 

Hale’s face did something complicated, and Jordan couldn’t quite decide exactly which emotion it landed on. “Yeah.” He finally said, his voice underlaid with emotion, “I was born here. I left for a while, I’ve been back for a year and a half or so.” 

“Where’d you go?” Jordan asked, trying to move away from talking about Beacon Hills, which had clearly made Hale uncomfortable. He made a mental note to figure out why that was later. 

“New York.” That didn’t seem to be a better topic, and Jordan almost watched the emotional walls build themselves up in Hale’s eyes. 

He was saved from trying another futile attempt at finding a topic of conversation that didn’t force the dark-hared man to clam up by the door to the bathroom opening and Mr. Argent walking out, dressed in a T-shirt and a pair of jeans. His hair was still wet, and he frowned at the pair of them. “Deputy Parrish, what brings you here? Into my apartment?” The second half of the question was clearly directed past Jordan.

“He got a call for a fight.” Hale answered, and Jordan could almost hear the smirk in his voice, “Just wanted to make sure everyone was fine.”

Argent lifted both of his eyebrows and Jordan watched him make an effort to retain his serious composure. “Well, we’re all fine here, deputy. Just a misunderstanding.” 

Jordan nodded, though his eyes strayed to a line of developing bruises on the older man’s wrist. “Well, I guess I can head out, then.” He nodded to each of them and headed for the door. 

“Stay safe out there, deputy.” Argent called after him. The tone sounded foreboding, like there really was a threat out there that Jordan needed to worry about. It made him as nervous as Hale’s gaze had. He was happy to leave the apartment then. 

It wasn’t until he was back at the station, looking up Hale’s name that he’d realized what an ass he’d made of himself. 

Derek Hale. 23. One of the survivors of the Hale House Fire that had killed most of his family. 

Jordan sat back against his desk with a sigh, looking at the pictures of the Hale house ruins and trying to put a finger on what it was about Derek’s gaze and Chris’ calm, knowing voice that made him so nervous.

\--

The next time Jordan sees Derek Hale and Chris Argent, there are no hidden smiles or inside jokes. Chris is sat at the bar in the local dive, and Derek is beside him, one hand running gently across the older mans’ back in an odd spiral pattern that seemed random but also practiced. Jordan was off shift, dressed down and steeled himself to take the seat at the bar next to Derek.

Days ago, Jordan took the statements from the Sheriff’s son and his friends about the death of Argent’s daughter. He isn’t sure what to say, but turns to the pair of them, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Derek looks at him in surprise, “Oh, I didn’t--” 

“Don’t you dare.” Chris growls from beside him, looking up with red-rimmed eyes, “We all lost her.” 

“Random violence is really a problem. I’ve been trying to talk to the Sheriff about patrolling more consistently and upping our citizen’s watch programs but…” Jordan trails off as Chris Argent smiles at him, chuckling quietly and draining the shifter of whiskey in front of him. “I thought it was a good idea.”

Derek looked uncomfortably from Chris to Jordan and then settled on Jordan, “They’re good ideas he’s just…” Derek blinked, “Drunk, I think.”

“You think?” Jordan asked.

Derek licked his bottom lip and Jordan couldn’t help but watch, “Yeah, I don’t really…drink much.” 

Something Derek said made Argent chuckle again, and Derek himself exhaled a quiet almost-laugh from his nose. “Don’t drink…Can’t drink…”

Jordan frowned, “You can’t drink? What are you doing at a bar.” 

Derek sighed, “Kinda thought that one would be obvious, deputy.” He tipped his head towards Argent. 

Jordan blinked a few times and then nodded, “Right.” 

Derek looked almost apologetic, “Sorry, we’re not very good company tonight.” 

Jordan shrugged, “I mean…all things considered if he’s laughed at all, I’ll call that a win.” 

Derek muttered something under his breath in Argent’s direction, which caused the older man to start giggling and then turned back to Jordan. “Thanks, I guess.” Derek gave Jordan a small smile that lit up his whole face, eyes glimmering under the fluorescent decorations of the bar. 

They exchange small talk for a while after that, mostly Derek and Jordan, with Chris occasionally jumping in for a joke only Derek gets or repeating something Derek says and causing the younger man to roll his eyes. Jordan finds out that Derek played basketball in high school, that he majored in History at Columbia while he and his now-deceased sister were in New York. After an hour, the pair leave, leaving Jordan alone at the bar and incredibly confused about exactly what he’s feeling.

He can’t tell what they are. Are they a couple? Are they together or just friends. What he saw the day he was at Argent’s apartment showed a level of trust between the two – if Argent was willing to shower while Derek was in his apartment. And the bruises on Argent’s wrists either implied that they were lying and there was some kind of fight, or maybe it was just kinky sex misunderstood by prying neighbors. Neither of them gave much away, and it made it hard for Jordan – even with a the honed perception of a trained officer of the law – to figure out what was going on.

It felt like they were always a step ahead of him in any interaction.

Which makes a lot more sense when Jordan finally finds out that Derek Hale is a werewolf and Argent has been training to hunt werewolves since before he could walk.

\--

Watching Derek die was more painful than Jordan had expected it to be, and that seemed to be the case for everyone involved. When he and Chris had arrived and the hunter had realized what he was seeing – Derek Hale, suddenly, inexplicably human, bleeding from the stomach, so similarly to the way he’d lost his daughter, he’d frozen, and Jordan swore he stopped breathing. The chaos hadn’t paused, though, and suddenly they had to fight again. 

When Derek comes back to life, Jordan is sure he’s the only one who’s paying enough attention to Chris to see the blanket relief that crosses his face. His own chest loosens in a way he wasn’t expecting, both in relief for Derek being alive and the fact that Chris doesn’t have to go through that kind of loss again.

He also doesn’t miss that just before Chris leaves with the Calaveras, he pulls Derek aside and says something to him, the ‘evolved’ werewolf nodding, and stepping impossibly close to Chris under the guise of whispering something back, but Jordan doesn’t miss the gentle brush of their cheeks together, and the way Derek’s eyes stay fixed on Chris until the hunter is long out of sight. 

Three weeks later, though, he gets a text from a number he doesn’t recognize, and all it is is an address to a hotel in San Diego, a room number, and;

‘This weekend, join us?’

He’s a hellhound, so really, even if he’s wrong, and the text isn’t from the only us he can think of, it’s not like it will be particularly easy for his would-be assassins to kill him. 

(Plus, the dead pool is over anyway, he’s no longer worth 5 million dollars.)

He’s not sure what surprises him more; that the Sheriff is all too happy to give him the weekend off, or the too-knowing smile on the Sheriff’s face when he does.

\--

He’s learned, particularly with Derek, that knocking on doors is incredibly unnecessary, so he’s not surprised – and incredibly relieved – when Derek opens the door to the hotel room at the fancy Oceanfront San Diego hotel. “You came.” The werewolf says, face splitting into the brightest smile Jordan has ever seen from him. He can’t help but return it.

“Sheriff Stilinski gave me the weekend off without any complaints.” Jordan shrugged, tucking his hands into his pockets because he still doesn’t understand what exactly this is.  
“That’s my fault.” A second voice calls from inside the hotel room, and Derek motions Jordan in so the hellhound can see Chris Argent relaxing. The sight itself is so out of place that if it wasn’t for the heat he can feel radiating off of Derek at his back, he’d wonder if this was even real.

Chris is dressed in a T-shirt and a pair of cargo shorts, barefoot, leaned against the headboard of the giant king-sized bed in the room.

The only bed in the room.

“Did I need to book myself a room?” Jordan asked, suddenly wondering if he’s misunderstood all of this.

Suddenly, the heat of Derek isn’t just hovering near his back, but is pressed up against it as a voice, close to his ear whispers, “That’s your call.” A shiver runs down Jordan’s spine and he blushes furiously as his dick suddenly decides to take notice of the situation; the way Chris’ ice blue eyes are fixed on the pair of them, face content, lips curved up into a small smile. Derek’s body, well-toned and werewolf-strong, plastered against his back, lips against his ear like this is a perfectly normal occurrence.

“What are you asking me?” He asks, swallowing hard. Sure, he can read into situations like no other, but he doesn’t want to do that here. The two of them seem happy for the first time in so long. He doesn’t want to get in the middle of that. 

Or well he does but not in the ‘break them up’ kind of way.

“You’re not as subtle as you think you are, Jordan.” Chris says from the bed, and Jordan has to suppress the urge to groan as he feels Derek nose a line from the sensitive space behind his ear down to where his shoulder and neck meet. “At the very least you’re interested in Derek. I wasn’t drunk enough to miss that at the bar.” 

“And I could smell it.” Derek murmured. 

“You can smell attraction?” 

A chuckle, “No, but I can smell arousal.” 

“What does he smell like now, Derek?” Chris asked, and Jordan’s eyes finally tear away from the hunter’s face to follow his arm down to where he’s palming at what Jordan can only imagine is an erection. 

“Arousal.” Derek says, and there’s a laugh in his voice. 

“What…” Jordan pulls himself away from the werewolf, turning so he can look at both of them, pointedly ignoring the plethora of erections in the room. “So, you two are together.”  
Chris smiled, and he looks at Derek, “For some reason, yes. He could have had anyone.”

Derek rolled his eyes, “Ah, yes, I’m such a catch with my dead family, recent resurrection and metric ton of emotional baggage.” 

“I mean, I think you are.” Jordan surprised himself with his words, but the smile he earned from Derek was worth it. “And you, you’re a good man, Argent. I can see why the two of you would work.” 

“We want you, too.” Derek said softly, blushing high on his cheeks, pulling another amused grin from Chris. 

The hunter got up from the bed and crossed the floor to stand in front of Jordan, “Derek’s wanted you for a long time. I think you’re a brilliant deputy and I can see the attraction, so, if you’re up to try it, we’d like you to join us.” 

Jordan dragged in a breath, studying the relaxed, honest, open face of Chris Argent, silently wondering how small the list of people who had ever seen this face was. Derek was close to him too suddenly, the werewolf also open, earnest, eyes burning with a desire that surprised and delighted Jordan. 

“Are you sure? I don’t want to mess anything up for the two of you.” 

Derek’s only answer was to kiss him, spinning Jordan so he was pressed between the werewolf and the hunter. 

Jordan decided when Chris started kissing a line down his neck, apparent invulnerability aside, he might have been one of the safest people on earth in that moment.


	2. crystal clear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the smut that I couldn't not write.

Derek kissed, Jordan mused, like a man afraid that the thing in his arms was about to be taken from him. Warm hands cupped his jaw, the kiss itself wet and warm and bruising. When Jordan pulled away to breathe he stared into the ‘wolf’s eyes, studying the blend of grey and green and gold that made up such distinctively unique eyes. Derek stared right back, an eyebrow half-cocked in some kind of question or challenge.

“What?” Jordan asked, blushing faintly.

Derek shook his head, smiling slightly, “I’m just…”

“He gets overwhelmed.” Chris said, reaching past Jordan to run a hand into Derek’s hair, turning the werewolf’s face so that he could press his own lips against them. Jordan watched in awe, Derek absolutely melting under Chris’ touch. Jordan must have made some kind of noise because they broke the kiss suddenly and turned towards him, both of them grinning.

“What do you want from this, Jordan?” Derek asked, tugging him towards the bed, dropping gracefully onto it, one leg curled underneath him. Chris took the other side of him, face neutral, eyes warm.

“I mean…” Jordan glanced around, “It’s pretty obvious what you two want.” He stared down at his hands, “I guess I want…that.”

“We’re gonna need more than that.” Chris said, grabbing Jordan’s jaw with one calloused hand, turning his face up so that their eyes could meet. “It’s not about us. It’s about you.” Chris pressed a very different kind of kiss to Jordan’s lips; dry and tender and quick, welcoming, open, leaving the ball in Jordan’s court.

Jordan pulled back, head swiveling to look between the two of them. “I just want you. Both of you.” He shrugged.  
  
Getting from fully dressed on the end of the bed to completely naked pressed into the middle of the bed happened much faster than Jordan would have considered possible. He was pretty sure Derek had actually just ripped the T-shirt he’d had on off, which, considering the amount of clothing he burned through, had been forgivable. Chris had been more careful with his jeans and underwear, and then Jordan had been treated to the sight of the two of them undressing each other; Chris with deft skill and Derek with impatient passion.

All impatience, though, faded away when Derek, gloriously naked, turned towards Jordan with a dark, wanting look and covered Jordan’s body with their own, kissing him once more, rocking their hips together. With easy skill, Derek rolled them onto their sides, and Jordan felt the unmistakable press of Chris’ erection against his ass as the hunter again started in on his neck.Jordan, finally realizing that he was in fact capable of making decisions, broke the kiss from Derek and smiled, rubbing his cheek against Derek’s as he’d seen the wolf do, and then turning around to face Chris, studying the hunter’s face before tentatively pressing their lips together. He heard (felt, really) an approving grumble from Derek before the ‘wolf began kissing and biting at his neck. Chris had grunted slightly in surprise but leaned into the kiss happily.

A hand, Derek’s given the smoothness of it, wrapped around his painfully hard cock and Jordan broke the kiss with Chris to drop his head onto the hunter’s shoulder, sucking in a breath as Derek stroked him. Even dry, the friction was nice, and everything had been passionate and overwhelming and Jordan was finally in bed with _both_ of them and so, he barely even bothered to feel embarrassed when he came after only minutes of the attention.   
  
“You can probably go again soon.” Chris murmured against Jordan’s ear as he held him while he caught his breath, “But you probably won’t ever match Derek’s refractory period.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Jordan could see Derek’s smug grin as the wolf rolled over to retrieve something. “I mean, at least we now know I don’t burst into flame when I come.”

Both men laughed, “Is that a challenge, deputy?” Chris asked, eyebrows raised. He looked past Jordan, “What’d you have in mind, wolf?”

Derek had rolled back, mouthing at Jordan’s neck again, “I want to fuck him.” Jordan’s breath caught, “If….that’s okay.”

Jordan wasn’t sure if he was asking permission from Chris or him, but he turned to Derek with a smile anyway, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. “I’d like that.”

“And I want you to fuck me.” Derek said, dark, lust-blown pupils settling on Chris, “At the same time.”

Jordan really did stop breathing that time, until Chris smirked and winked, “Whatever you want, wolf,” before leaning over to kiss Derek thoroughly.

\--

What blows Jordan away entirely is the amount of trust between the werewolf and the hunter. It’s clear that Derek trusts Chris explicitly and implicitly; is happy to give himself to the hunter. The hunter isn’t shy about taking, from Derek or from Jordan; doles out kisses and soft brushes of worn, calloused hands against their skin. His cock, large and angry red hangs between his legs, untouched entirely, while he doles out affection to the two men in his bed.

Jordan wonders if the sense of duty was something Chris was born with, or if it was born of his desire to keephold _cherish_ the people in his life now, an underlying fear of loss.

Derek, distracted as he may be by Chris’ skilled fingers working their way into his ass, is equally an attentive lover. He too, Jordan realized, has known an absurd about of loss, and touches with intention and affection, kissing, licking, biting, learning his way down Jordan’s body, drinking in every scent, every mole, every noise he can pull. Jordan bites down insecurity in the face of the two of them, allows himself to bite out curses and moans, spreads his legs eagerly so the werewolf can settle between them.

Derek opens him with practice and precision that Jordan appreciates more than words. It’s been _years_ since he’s been with someone like this, since before he…well, before he died. Derek doesn’t hide the fact that he’s a werewolf either, his nose and mouth sucking along the inside of Jordan’s thighs, leaving marks that won’t last long as he stretches Jordan out.

Derek freezes, eyes falling closed, forehead falling to rest against Jordan’s hip as he growls out, “Fuck, Chris, some warning.” But there’s no actual bite behind the words. Jordan’s eyes finally focus and he realizes the change, Chris now up on his knees, pressing steadily into Derek, the ‘wolf still, blunt human teeth finding purchase in the skin of Jordan’s hip as Chris bottoms out. Jordan’s hips give an involuntary thrust at that. 

“Please.” Is the only word he can actually manage to get out, and Derek’s eyes flash blue when he looks up.

“Do you want to – _fuck_ – flip or not?”

Jordan shook his head, “I want to be able to see.”

Chris has no choice – he’d gotten a little hasty anyway, but unlike them he doesn’t have a supernatural refractory period – but to pull out while Derek settles himself between Jordan’s legs, easing his way slowly into the hellhound, eyes electric blue, but face calm, steady. When Derek is finally inside, one of Chris’ hands presses down on Derek’s upper back, forcing him to lean in close, and Jordan can feel Derek shift forward minutely as Chris fucks into him again.

From there, it’s a complicated, disjointed few minutes as they get their bearings, Jordan finds he’s able to wrap his legs around Derek and Chris, and that helps, keeps them all close. It’s slow, intimate, easy fucking, and as amazing as it all feels, he knows it probably isn’t going to get anyone off. Derek seems to know this, and sinks all the way into Jordan, leaning down to press kisses and suck marks into his throat. Chris takes the initiative and picks up his own pace.

He comes soon after, hips flush against Derek’s ass, head tossed back, hands gripped against Derek’s hips. He pulls out a moment later, drawing a whimper out of Derek before Derek gets with the program and finally fucks Jordan with purpose.

“Can you smell him?” Jordan asks, eyes locked on Derek’s.

Derek’s eyes flash again, and Jordan can see he has a mouth full of fangs, “Yes.” He slurs around them, clawed hands tipping Jordan’s hips back so his thrusts make contact with his prostate, and then Jordan is unable to continue his attempt at dirty talk.

It’s Chris’ calloused hand on Jordan’s dick – again – that brings him off, and probably the scent of Jordan’s orgasm that pushes Derek over the last edge, burying himself into Jordan’s ass and coming with nothing short of a howl.

Derek doesn’t pull out, just collapses onto Jordan’s chest, face, back to human, nuzzling into his neck and kissing lightly at the marks he’d left. Chris brings his hand, sticky with Jordan’s come, up to Derek’s mouth, the werewolf lapping happily at it, sucking two of Chris’ fingers into his mouth in such a practiced move that if he hadn’t already come twice, Jordan’s dick would probably have taken notice.

“He’s good with his mouth too.” Chris said, laying on his side close to both of them. “After a nap, I’m sure he’ll be happy to show you.”

Jordan gave a lazy smile, turning his face to kiss Chris softly. “I’ll take whatever you can give me.”

Chris chuckled quietly, “Be careful what you wish for.”


End file.
